


Suite Bet

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - All Media Types, Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Autofellatio, Bathtubs, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nevactacus, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24855781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: Inspired by an ad for a ridiculous suite.I wrote this today (Sunday) and now it's 11:30pm and I don't have any ambition to proofread as I work in the morning - so I apologize for typos or clunky sentences; I might fix it when I get around to writing the second chapter...
Relationships: Caractacus Potts/Nevada Ramirez
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33
Collections: Nevactacus





	Suite Bet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rellkelltn87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rellkelltn87/gifts).



“ _Bugger me_.”

“ _Qué mierda_.”

Caractacus stared around the room in stunned disbelief, scarcely able to make sense of what he was seeing. Why had Nevada brought him _here_? “Are you taking the piss?” he asked, eyeing the gigantic champagne glass-shaped tub visible on the far side of the suite.

“Am I—” Nevada turned his head to glare at him. “Not at the moment.”

“I mean, is this a joke?” Caractacus walked slowly toward the towering champagne glass, glancing down at the surprisingly-plush carpet squishing beneath his shoes. Beside the seven-foot-tall tub was a glass wall dividing the suite, and through the wall Caractacus could see a small heart-shaped pool set into the floor, shimmering bluely. It was surrounded by red carpet.

Everywhere he looked, there was red carpeting and hearts. It looked like Cupid had exploded all over the suite. The bed was circular, but the comforter was covered in hearts, and there were heart-shaped throw pillows stacked on top.

Curious, Caractacus walked over to examine the champagne glass tub, and he was both surprised and horrified to find a carpeted staircase hidden behind that led up to the tub at the top of the stem. “So much mildew,” he muttered. The room smelled clean, at least, and not musty, so he supposed the housekeeping staff deserved a sizeable tip.

“I’m gonna take a belt to _Dama_ —”

Caractacus turned so quickly that Nevada, who’d been trailing behind him, took a startled step backward at the dark scowl drawing the other man’s brows together. “Over my dead body is that happening.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“And secondly, what the _bloody hell_ does my ten-year-old daughter have to do with you bringing me to—to _this_?” Caractacus continued, sweeping an arm to indicate the suite. His eyes landed on a giant heart-shaped platter of cubed cheese and fruit, and he looked quickly away. He didn’t want to think Nevada had brought him here as a joke—Nevada often mocked Caractacus’s sappiness, but it never made Caractacus feel genuinely belittled; bringing him to what was clearly a honeymoon suite, and certainly the cheesiest one ever designed, felt more deliberately cruel.

Nevada let the silence stretch for several seconds, his way of drawing attention to the fact that Caractacus had interrupted him—twice—before answering slowly: “If you think I would actually hit your kid—”

“You said you wanted to go somewhere for the weekend,” Caractacus said, and he was alarmed to hear the hurt in his own voice. “I never asked for anything like—I never tried to make you feel bad about how you express yourself, but if you think it’s funny that I like sappy, romantic things then haha, hilarious, great joke, we might as well head home now.”

Nevada stared at him, frowning. “Maybe we talk when you calm down,” he finally said. He turned away and walked over to the luggage they’d set inside the door. “This place is ugly as shit but it ain’t cheap, so maybe be a little grateful—”

“ _Grateful_?” Caractacus repeated, following him. “That you brought me here to poke fun at me?”

“That’s not what this is,” Nevada said, turning back to face him, and his eyes flashed with a warning. “Be careful, _Chiflado_.”

“Or what?” Caractacus asked, his eyes narrowing as he stepped forward into Nevada’s space. “You’re the only one allowed to be angry, right? Well, fine. If me loving you makes you want to hurt me, then by all means, go ahead. Throw it all away, throw me away.”

“Hey, whoa,” Nevada said, grabbing Caractacus’s arm when he started away, “why don’t you just say what you think of me, really.”

“Don’t touch me.”

Nevada pulled his hand back as though he’d been burned, blinking in surprise. “You really think I brought you here to be mean?” he asked after a moment. His expression was blank, but there was something in his voice that got Caractacus’s attention and gave him a glimmer of doubt.

Caractacus took a breath before answering. “What am I supposed to think?”

“It was s’posed to be…” Nevada glanced around the room and grimaced. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, but his dark gaze was defiant when it found Caractacus’s. “Romantic, or whatever.”

Caractacus’s stomach clenched as it occurred to him that he’d jumped to conclusions and potentially hurt Nevada’s feelings for trying to do something nice. But still: “You’re never romantic. At least not on purpose.”

The hint of a smile touched Nevada’s lips. “Why I asked Jemima for help.”

Caractacus hesitated, gauging the other man’s sincerity. “She’s ten.”

“She’s a girl.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know, girls know more about romance stuff, yes?”

“I’m romantic, does that make me—”

Nevada made a sound of frustration. “Stop being mad at me!” he exclaimed. “ _Lo siento_ , okay? So I’m an asshole, it’s not like you don’t know that all along.”

“Mimi found this place?” Caractacus looked around, his anger evaporating. “That makes sense, I guess this might look like a ten-year-old’s idea of romance. And you, you wouldn’t know the difference.”

Nevada glared at him. “I get it, I’m an asshole and an idiot.”

“I only meant you’ve never planned something like this…” He paused, considering as he regarded Nevada. “I mean, have you?”

Nevada continued to scowl at him. “No. But even I would’ve known better than this place if _la niña_ showed me pictures.”

“Wait, you’re telling me you gave my child free rein to plan and book this place without any oversight on your part?”

Nevada shrugged defensively. “She’s smart, and she said you’d like it.”

Caractacus softened immediately, reaching for Nevada. “Babe, I’m so sorry,” he said, wrapping his arms around Nevada and kissing his cheek before burying his face in Nevada’s shoulder. “You did something nice and I threw it back in your face, please forgive me.”

“Well. Probably you can make it up to me,” Nevada suggested, but his defensive posture had begun to relax in Caractacus’s hold. “Besides,” he added after a moment, “not like you got a lot of reason to expect nice stuff from me.”

“You’re always nice to me, you only pretend not to be,” Caractacus countered, and Nevada snorted softly. Caractacus kissed the side of his neck. “I’m just afraid I annoy you when I’m too affectionate or happy, so when I thought you might be mocking me—”

“You think I don’t want you to be happy?” Nevada asked quietly.

Caractacus drew back to look at him. “I really screwed everything up. Please, can we pretend I never opened my stupid mouth? I’ve been worrying lately, that’s no excuse to take it out on you. I’m—”

“Worrying about what?”

Caractacus swallowed hard and looked away. “We can talk about that later. Let’s relax and…and eat this fruit and forget I acted like an idiot.”

“You always act like an idiot,” Nevada said, smirking when Caractacus laughed.

“I know, I know.” Caractacus rolled his eyes. “You hate me, I get it.” He was teasing, now, his anger and insecurity gone as quickly as they’d come. “Come on, the place is scary but we’ve got the whole weekend, we might as well enjoy it. We can try out the…giant champagne glass of doom.”

“I’m not going in that thing,” Nevada objected, allowing Caractacus to pull him by the wrist toward the complimentary fruit and cheese tray. “It’s like a…” He circled his free hand in the air, his brow wrinkling. “What’s that science thing—”

“Petri dish,” Caractacus supplied, knowing automatically that Nevada wasn’t referring to the shape.

“Right, on top of…”

“A test tube?” Caractacus laughed. “I’m sure it’s all been thoroughly disinfected. Besides, since when have you been afraid of germs?”

“I’m not afraid. I’m just not going up there.”

“I’m usually the one doing the gross stuff, anyway.”

Nevada stopped, pulling Caractacus back around to level him with a narrowed glare. “Gross?”

“You know what I mean.”

Nevada gave Caractacus a slow, thoughtful once-over. “How long can you hold your breath?”

Caractacus huffed, amused. “You should have a pretty good idea by now.”

“Hmm. Never tried holding your head underwater.”

“How about you don’t try, now?”

“You saying you won’t give me a blowjob if I go up there with you?”

“No,” Caractacus answered, drawing out the single syllable. “I’m saying I’ll do it without you forcing me.”

“Maybe I don’t hate you, y’know.”

Caractacus laughed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you.”

* * *

Caractacus twisted beneath the water, his feet sliding against the slanted wall of the tub and sloshing liquid over the edge to splatter onto the carpet far below.

Nevada shifted uneasily, watching Caractacus’s dark hair floating to the surface of the water. He’d been down there a long time, and as much as Nevada was enjoying the effort, he wasn’t thrilled about the idea of having to drag Caractacus’s unconscious body down the stairs.

He grabbed a handful of hair and tugged, pulling Caractacus’s head up. Caractacus sucked in a wet, ragged breath as water sluiced down his face, but as soon as he’d gotten air into his lungs he made an annoyed sound.

“What? I was fine.”

“Sure, fine,” Nevada answered, scowling. “Thrashing around.”

“It’s too small in here,” Caractacus complained. “All twisted up like a pretzel, might as well be trying to suck myself,” he said, eyeing Nevada’s erection through the rippling water.

“Good luck with that.”

Caractacus glanced up, blinking water out of his eyes. His dripping hair was plastered to his forehead. “It has been awhile,” he allowed. He drew a breath and started to duck back down, but Nevada grabbed his wet hair to stop him.

“Are you saying you’ve sucked your own dick?”

“Fuck’s sake, Nevada,” Caractacus said, “not since I was a teenager. Every boy probably did it—”

“No, every boy _tried_ ,” Nevada cut in, cocking an eyebrow. He considered, his eyes narrowing. “Do it.”

“What, _now_? I’d seriously drown!”

“You can’t do it,” Nevada said, his smug smile full of confidence. “Your dick’s not _that_ long. Plus you’re old—and a little soft in the middle,” he added, poking Caractacus’s belly under the water.

Caractacus gasped, his muscles clenching in surprise. “Hey! You’ve never complained about my body.”

“Ain’t complainin’ now,” Nevada answered, flattening his palm over Caractacus’s stomach. “I’m only saying you can’t do it.”

Caractacus, who had no real desire to suck his own cock, glared at Nevada. “I can so.”

“Can’t.”

“I thought you wanted me to suck yours right now.”

“It’s no fun up here,” Nevada said. “No room. Let’s go down to the other one.”

“You want to drown me in the heart-shaped pool? Symbolic,” Caractacus intoned.

Nevada grinned.

“I can do it.”

“Can’t.”

“I’ll bet you.”

Nevada raised his eyebrows. “Willing to put a wager on something you said yourself you haven’t tried since you were a kid?”

“I’m confident I can still do it.”

“How confident?”

“How confident are you that I _can’t_?”

“Very,” Nevada laughed. He tickled Caractacus under the water, laughing again when Caractacus squirmed and sloshed water over the edge of the tub.

“Fine, name the stakes.”

“Hmm,” Nevada said, his eyes lighting with sudden interest. “I’ll tell you after I win.”

“That’s not fair!” Caractacus objected.

“Thought you were sure you won’t lose.”

“I am! But—Fine. What do I get when I win?”

“Anything you want.”

Caractacus regarded him, considering. “Anything?”

For a moment, Nevada’s confidence slipped and he showed a hint of doubt. “Like what?”

Caractacus smiled, leaning closer. “What if I want to tie you to the bed, huh? What if I want you to have to do whatever I say for…um, three hours?”

Nevada swallowed. “Three hours?” His gaze slid to Caractacus’s mouth. “That what you want, _Chiflado_? To be the boss of me?”

“I don’t think you’ll do it,” Caractacus answered, but his voice was soft.

Nevada met his eyes. “A bet’s a bet,” he said after a few seconds. Caractacus could feel the other man’s hesitation, and he almost relented. He had no intention of following through on such a bet; he would never do anything that would make Nevada so uncomfortable, and he knew Nevada had good reason for his trust issues. “Okay,” Nevada said, surprising him. “If you win, you get to order me around for three hours.” He didn’t mention being tied up, and Caractacus was perfectly willing to let it go. “But _when_ I win, you have to agree to what I say.”

“Alright, but we need to specify the terms, here. Do I only have to get it in my mouth—”

“You have to suck yourself off.”

“I have to _finish_?”

“ _Sí_. Come in your own mouth.”

“Jesus.”

“I’ve tasted you, it ain’t so bad,” Nevada said, showing his teeth in a grin.

Caractacus laughed. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he teased, leaning forward to plant a quick kiss on the other man’s lips. “Fine, let’s go down where there’s more space to move around.”

* * *

“The water’s nice,” Caractacus said. He was sitting on the edge of the heart-shaped pool with his legs in the heated water. Nevada was in the pool, sprawled insolently on the seat with his legs spread and his arms stretched out along the edge. The clear water afforded a nice, shimmering view of his erection.

“Eyes on your own,” Nevada laughed. “Quit stalling.”

“Don’t you want me to finish—”

“You first.”

Caractacus raised an eyebrow. “You might regret that when I win this bet and get to tell you when you can or cannot come.”

Nevada lifted his chin. His smile was smug, maybe a little dangerous, but his eyes were lit with good humor. “I think I can survive. And you’ll wanna remember the three hours _will end_.”

“No paybacks allowed for a fair bet,” Caractacus said.

“You’re not winning, anyway.”

Caractacus looked down at himself, chewing his lip for a moment. It had been a long time, and he was nowhere near as flexible as he’d once been. He wondered if he was going to have to put his legs behind his head; he’d done it a few times, but if he did it now he’d likely need Nevada’s help getting them back down again.

He gave himself a few strokes while he pondered. He was fully hard, at least. That was helpful. He shifted his ass back from the edge of the pool a bit and leaned forward, testing the bend of his back. He probably should’ve done some stretching exercises, although he had limbered himself up a little in the giant champagne glass.

He was close. It was difficult to breathe while bent in half, and he could already feel the muscles protesting—especially the backs of his thighs—but he could also feel victory. He knew he was going to be able to do it, he just had to go slowly and be mindful not to strain anything.

“No way,” Nevada said in disbelief when Caractacus touched his lips to the head of his own cock. “Now I see how you were a virgin when you met your wife, if I could suck my own dick I wouldn’t ever need anyone else.”

Caractacus lifted his head to meet Nevada’s eyes. “It’s always better with another person. Why do you think I stopped doing it?”

Nevada didn’t answer, but he gestured with one hand for Caractacus to continue.

Caractacus drew a deep breath and slowly bent down, holding his erection upright in one fist while he managed to close his lips around the head of his shaft. He sucked experimentally and his whole body tightened. He made a sound in the back of his throat; he’d forgotten how good it felt. He’d always known that part of the pleasure came from the feeling of forbiddenness, and now he had the added thrill of knowing Nevada was watching him.

Still, it felt good. It always had. The constriction of his muscles, the inability to squirm around, added intensity to the pleasure. The lack of deep breaths gave just a hint of fuzz to the outside world, cocooning him into his own little bubble. He’d never been able to get more than an inch or so into his mouth, but that was plenty. Now, he slid his hand down over his balls, adding pressure while he fingered his perineum.

He’d discovered the spot when he was seventeen, and the first time he’d nearly lost consciousness from the unexpected power of his orgasm. He’d wrenched something in his neck, and for days he’d barely been able to turn his head. He’d told his parents he’d fallen asleep at a bad angle, and he’d refused to be taken to a doctor. For half a week he’d been terrified he’d done permanent damage, and that someone would find out how it had happened.

He’d healed up as good as new, though, and the fear subsided after another week—enough for him to cautiously try again.

Now, after decades of sexual experience, he knew his body much better. He knew exactly how to get himself to the edge without pushing himself past his limits, and he tightened his mouth around his cock while massaging behind his balls. After a moment, realizing Nevada couldn’t see what he was doing, Caractacus carefully drew up one leg and braced his heel on the edge of the pool. He moved his arm, wrapping it around his thigh for better leverage, and brushed a finger over his hole for Nevada’s benefit. He felt a flare of satisfaction when he heard the answering groan.

Caractacus was struggling to breathe through his nose, but he could already feel his orgasm building. He kneaded his balls, not bothering to be gentle. He wanted to win this bet, and he wasn’t going to let the burn in his thighs, or the twinges in his back, or the lack of oxygen drive him to defeat.

His muscles had begun to tremble from the strain, and he slurped messily, noisily, desperate to come before anything could cramp. He heard the water in the pool slosh, felt it lap up his thigh, but he didn’t lift his head to see what Nevada was doing until he felt a hand on his knee. He made a sound of surprise and his mouth slipped off his cock.

“Let me,” Nevada said, his voice rough.

“What—” Caractacus had to clear his throat. “The bet was—”

“You win the bet,” Nevada said, ducking his head and swallowing Caractacus’s cock before Caractacus could answer.

Caractacus jerked, grabbing instinctively for Nevada’s hair as his back arched. He slapped a hand onto the floor behind himself, distantly wondering again why anyone had thought it was a good idea to put carpeting around an in-floor pool, and fisted his other hand into Nevada’s hair. Nevada didn’t object; he had hold of Caractacus’s thighs, his fingers digging into the inventor’s pale flesh.

“Please—God, Vad—I’m going to—” He couldn’t finish the thought as his climax tore through him, and he slammed his heel into Nevada’s back as he came with a loud cry. Nevada swallowed, sucking him dry, continuing to suck until Caractacus was whimpering incoherently, and then he released him and lifted his head.

They stared at each other, still tangled together—Caractacus had a leg thrown around Nevada’s back and his fingers, now loose, in Nevada’s hair. Nevada was holding Caractacus’s thighs.

“You win,” Nevada said quietly after a few moments. “Three hours.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Shut up and take the prize,” Nevada said.

* * *

“No headboard,” Nevada said, eyeing the bed with open disdain. He was standing naked, his skin still glistening after a half-assed attempt at drying off, his erection jutting impatiently from his black curls. He was holding two pairs of handcuffs. “Guess you’ll have to make do with cuffing me to myself. Hand to hand, foot to foot? Or you want to crisscross so I can’t move—”

“You brought handcuffs with you?”

Nevada raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Supposed to be a romantic weekend, no?”

Caractacus smiled and shook his head. “We can forget about the restraints, it’s alright.” Despite Nevada’s attempt at nonchalance, Caractacus could see the uncertainty lingering around his eyes.

Nevada stepped close to Caractacus and slapped the cuffs into his palm. “I don’t agree to this lightly, _Chiflado_ ,” he said.

Caractacus swallowed. “I know.” He paused, searching Nevada’s face. “I don’t need this, Nevada. I only wanted to know you _would_.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Nevada said. The admission seemed to surprise him—his expression tightened as soon as the words left his lips—but they stunned Caractacus.

“What? Nevada, you don’t have to worry—”

“The kids told me, Caractacus,” Nevada said. He glanced away before forcing his eyes back to the other man’s. Caractacus was caught off guard by the pain and fear shining in Nevada’s green gaze, and he reached out his free hand instinctively to touch Nevada’s arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was going to tell you this weekend,” Caractacus said. “I didn’t want to worry you. Nevada, it’ll all work out.”

“If your visa expires, they can deport you. All of you. I can’t—” He stopped and shook his head. “You have a house in your name. A job. Why would they—”

“Nevada, please. It’s only paperwork—”

“And you weren’t gonna tell me. What would you do, just leave?”

“Of course not. I’ll fight with everything I have to stay in this country but if they force me to leave, I hope you’ll come with us until we can figure out how to come back.” He paused, considering. “You planned this weekend because you thought I was going to leave?”

“To convince you to stay.”

“I don’t have control over that if—” He stopped. “If you won the bet, were you going to make me promise to stay? Is that why you wouldn’t say what—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Nevada said. “It was a stupid idea, and I lost. We can talk about it—”

“No, uhn-uh,” Caractacus said, “I won and that means you have to do whatever I say for three hours.” Nevada grimaced, his throat working. “So, tell me what your plan was.”

“No.”

“A bet’s a bet.”

Nevada glared at him for several seconds before stepping away. “Fine. You’re the boss,” he said in a low voice, turning his back to Caractacus. He walked over to the suitcases and bent down, giving Caractacus a nice view of his naked backside while he fished through the side pocket of his bag. He straightened and turned, returning to Caractacus with a small box in his hand.

“Nevada,” Caractacus breathed, looking from the box to the other man’s face.

“I know you already got one,” Nevada said, gesturing toward Caractacus’s chest where he normally wore his wedding ring on a necklace; he’d taken it off before getting into the water. “And anyway, it was a bad idea to think a bet would make you say yes.”

“You…you brought me up here to propose?” Caractacus asked, completely stunned.

Nevada frowned down at the box in his hand. “If we get married, you and the kids can stay here. Right?”

“I appreciate the thought, Nevada, honestly I do, but you don’t have to do that. I don’t think they’ll refuse my visa renewal, but if they do then we’ll cross that bridge—”

“I bought the ring before I knew,” Nevada interrupted. “Only I didn’t have the guts to ask. Even now, I still didn’t. Tried to trick you into it with a stupid bet.”

Caractacus tossed the cuffs onto the bed and reached up to cup his hands to Nevada’s face, ducking his head to catch the other man’s gaze. “If you want to marry me, not because of a visa, not because of a bet, but because you want to _marry me_ , be a family with me and my kids, build a life together, if you want that, Nevada, then ask me now.”

Nevada touched his tongue to his lip and swallowed. “Do you, um. Do you want…” He stopped, gathering his courage. “ _Te amo, Chiflado_. Marry me.” Then, before Caractacus could point out that that wasn’t a question, Nevada added: “Please.”

“Yes. Of course,” Caractacus said, bending forward to kiss him. “I love you, too,” he murmured against Nevada’s lips.

“No shit,” Nevada said. “Not exactly subtle, you know.”

Caractacus chuckled. “I tried, at least give me credit for trying.”

“You tried,” Nevada agreed softly. “I told you, you’re like the sun, it just shines out of you.” He looked down and opened the box. “Do you want this thing, or what?”

“Yes,” Caractacus said, holding out his left hand so Nevada could slip the silver ring onto his finger. “Are you going to wear one?”

“Sure. I got matching,” Nevada said. “I’ll get rid of the other ones so it’s more obvious.” He caught sight of the sudden glimmer of tears in Caractacus’s eyes. “What?” he asked.

“That’s sweet.”

“ _That’s_ what makes you cry?” Nevada asked. “You’re so weird.”

“I know,” Caractacus laughed. “Come on, let’s go to bed. You’ve been hard for an hour, just tell me how you want me—”

“Uh-uh, you’re gonna cuff me and do whatever _you_ want, that was the deal.”

“I told you, you don’t need to do that.”

“I trust you. Let me prove it.”

Caractacus studied his face for several seconds. “No payback after the time’s up?”

Nevada laughed. “ _Chiflado_ , this _is_ payback. Take it while you can.”

Caractacus considered for another moment before grinning.


End file.
